


Falling Again

by Halos_Boat



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Exes to Lovers, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Smut, i blame harry styles, very self-indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:20:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22800865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Halos_Boat/pseuds/Halos_Boat
Summary: It's all too familiar, every part of this. Louis relishes in the feeling. He's spent a good few mornings doing this now; just looking.He can look, he can touch, he can feel. But. But it's only temporary. The softness, the beauty, the rosy pink, the delicacy--- all of it is only temporary. At least, it is for Harry.For Louis, well, he's just hoplessly in love with him all over again. How could he not be?
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 43
Kudos: 410





	Falling Again

**Author's Note:**

> This is very self-indulgent. Harry's performance at the BRITS sure didnt help. 
> 
> Anyhow, here it is. If I forgot to tag anything, please let me know! 
> 
> Also, there's three songs I reference here that have inspired the whole fic. I mention all of them but not all are written by Harry/Louis.
> 
> I highly recommend listening to them throughout the fic! 
> 
> Here are the songs: 
> 
> Selfish - Madison Beer   
> The Good Side - Troye Sivan   
> Falling - Harry Styles

Roses. The smell just as soft and delicate as it's petals. Just as smooth as his skin, as beautiful as his features, as pink as his lips.

It's all too familiar, every part of this. Louis relishes in the feeling. He's spent a good few mornings doing this now; just looking.

He can look, he can touch, he can feel. But. But it's only temporary. The softness, the beauty, the rosy pink, the delicacy--- all of it is only temporary. At least, it is for Harry.

For Louis, well, he's just hoplessly in love with him all over again. How could he not be?

In hindsight, he knew he'd feel this all over again. Or, well, maybe those feelings never really stopped. They were laying dormant inside of him while Harry was away and then he came back and it triggered every emotion, every feeling, every memory from years ago to resurface.

Sleeping together sure didn't help anything but Louis can't find himself to regret falling back into bed with him. Beautiful petal. Specimen of beauty, he is.

Louis runs his fingers over the bare skin of Harrys hip gingerly. _Soft, soft, soft_ , he thinks, almost in awe.

The pads of his fingertips meet the dip of his waist then the skin that stretches over his ribs right to the pebble, perked nipple that Louis can't help but twist in between his fingers.

That stirs Harry a bit, squirming, but not away from Louis, into him. His bum hits Louis' naked groin, a rumble falling from his throat.

"Morning," he rasps, then twists until he's turned to Louis, a tired smile on his face.

Louis smiles back, the green of Harry's eyes bright in the seeping sunlight of the room. "Morning," Louis says back, his voice not filled with sleep like Harry's. Which would make sense, since he's been awake for some time now, just looking.

"Pulling my nipples to wake me up? That's new," he says, blinking slowly, eyebrows slightly furrowed.

_Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful._

"Prefer my mouth on your dick then?"

"Or your arse," Harry grins mischievously.

Louis snorts, poking his stomach. Harry giggles in response, this time squirming away. He smiles again, pulling Harry close by his waist and, without wasting a second thought, he kisses him.

Lips soft, delicate, just like rose petals. He meets Louis' kiss instantly, melting into him, pilant and warm. Harry's hand caresses Louis' face, like he's made of gold or something equally as precious. He feels that way when he's with Harry.

When Louis pulls away, he doesn't pull away fully, leaving the tips of their noses and foreheads touching. Louis keeps his eyes shut, relishing, like he was doing before.

Roses, a hint of vanilla and tabbaco and a strong lingering scent of whiskey hung in the air. The whiskey is from last night, a drunken game of Scrabble, followed by giggling kisses and muffled moans. Vanilla and tabbaco is undoubtedly from Louis; its the cologne he's been wearing recently, a gift that Harry got him when he went to Dubai.

 _Smell reminds me of you_ , he'd said, _you should wear it_.

So, that's exactly what he did all those months ago, and he hasn't stopped since. He likes the smell.

The roses though, that's all Harry. Always has been. Louis is glad that even after years of fame, that's one thing that hasn't changed about him. He still smells like roses, feels like the petals, tastes as sweet as the nectar.

"You okay?" Harry asks, voice soft, fingers now carding through Louis' hair.

Louis nods, pulling away quickly and swallowing the growing lump in his throat. "Do I have you for some breakfast?"

Harry shakes his head, a look of regret flashing through his eyes. "No, I'm sorry. Have to go the studio."

Louis pushes down the disappointment that forms in his stomach. He should be used to all of this by now. Instead, he raises his eyebrow at him. "Working on another album already?"

"Something like that," he turns sheepish, playing with the sheets, nails digging into the Egyptian cotton, "actually think I'm going to finish it up soon."

"Yeah? Not going to Jamaica or Morroco or summat this time 'round?" Louis asks, eyebrows pinching together.

"No," he bites his lip, looking at Louis, "not this time."

"Oh, well, good luck with it then. I'm assuming this means you're going to stay here a little longer?"

Louis ignores the hopefulness that blooms in his chest.

"Yeah, was going to talk to you about that, actually. I was thinking about staying here in London until the album finishes and, um, maybe even until the release of the single. I'm not--- I'm not sure about that part though, just that I'm staying here until I finish the album."

"Okay," Louis says carefully, "that's great, love. How far are you exactly with it?"

"Just over halfway. Gonna finalise some tracks and stuff. Have a feeling it isn't going to take too long though," he says quietly, then he surges forward to kiss Louis, holding his face again, "you may have to stand me for more than a month this time."

Louis pushes away the urge to tell him that they did date for over two years, even if they were only in high school at the time. Their relationship didn't mean any less to Louis just because of their age. Apparently, to Harry, it did, because he had no problem leaving them behind.

Louis clears his throat, willing himself to get rid of those thoughts because they're eight years old and he needs to move past it somehow.

"Don't think I have a problem with that, as long as you can stand me for that long."

Harry smiles, dimples popping.

 _Petal_ , he thinks again.

"Think I can manage it," he hums, "need to wake up next to you more often though."

And god, Louis really wishes he'd stop saying stuff like that. Like he wants Louis again, in more than just a sexual sense. To wake up next to someone is something that's intimate, between two people in a relationship.

That's what confuses Louis the most. At first, the morning after they'd first slept together, Harry made Louis promise that it won't be anything serious between them, that they can 'do it again' but with no strings attached.

And Louis, god, Louis could never say no to him. And he'd missed him, more than he realised. Besides, their sex has always been mind-blowing, he wasn't going to turn it down.

At the time, he didn't think his feelings were anything too serious for them not to go forward with the deal. Now, he knows there's no going back. He probably needs to tell Harry soon about it all otherwise he'll be stuck in a limbo with him. Louis doesn't want to be stuck. He's tired of being stuck.

"Just to get my arse on your dick again, ey?" Louis quips. He has to, otherwise he'll get way too into his emotions.

Harry snorts, shaking his head. "Yes, sure," he says, a glint to his eyes, "or you could fuck my thighs again."

"Jesus," Louis huffs, almost choking on his saliva, "you really liked that, huh?"

"I like everything we do," he says sincerely but shrugs nonchalantly.

Louis smiles gently. "Me too," he says, just as sincere, "so when am I going to see you again?"

"You working the nightshift at the bar?" He asks.

Louis nods. "Yeah, sorry, love."

"It's okay. I'll come and see you anyways," he shrugs, the lets his fingers dance across the hair dusted on Louis' chest.

"Harry, uh, we can't--- it's just--- I'm going to be really tired so..."

Harry rolls his eyes light-heartedly. "Louis, am I not allowed to just see you? We don't have sex all the time, do we?"

Louis wants to argue that they do but he realises with a start that they don't. There's been over a handful of times that they just... hung out. But each trip Harry's made (and the few Louis has) has always ended in sex anyways.

Like he said, it's all been really confusing.

"We don't," Louis agrees, "well in that case, my shift ends there at three."

"In the morning?" Harry wrinkles his nose.

Louis nods.

"God, I don't know how you do it," Harry huffs, "starts at midnight then?"

"Half eleven," Louis corrects, "let me know when you're coming, yeah?"

"I will," Harry kisses him again.

It's so soft and sweet and gentle, Louis almost feels like they're back in 2010 again, new lovers, blushing at every touch, tentative at every kiss, stuttering moans and strawberry lips. It's all very overwhelming for Louis sometimes. He wishes, more than anything, that they could go back to that.

When life was simple. Where he'd wake up and go to school, kiss his boyfriend, go to footie practice and just be happy like he was. A carefree sort of happiness that he never knew he'd taken advantage of at the time.

He isn't unhappy now, by no means. He just misses that type of happiness; something he thought he'd forgotten about until running into Harry again all those months ago.

Ten months ago, if Louis is doing his calculations right. It didn't take long to fall back in love with him though. Not even a month for Louis.

"I'll see you later then, yeah?" Louis says, pushing himself off the bed and away from Harry.

Harry pouts before nodding. "Yeah, um, drive home safe and text me when you get home, okay?"

Louis smiles, heart fluttering. The concern in his voice is heartwarming. He's still the same old Harry; always kind, always sweet, even to those that hardly deserved it. A saint, he is.

"I will, love, thanks," Louis says, then searches for his boxers from the floor.

He has to catch himself from calling Harry 'petal', the way he used to. It becomes hard sometimes to do when they're not in the heat of the moment. When they are though, he lets it slip, lets himself talk, all dirty but sweet and full of truth at the same time.

"Louis," Harry calls out just as he's about to open the bedroom door to head out.

"Yeah?" He turns around.

Harry puckers his lips up. Louis laughs softly before going to him and kissing him once. See, it's very confusing. Do friends with benefits do that? Probably not.

It's not like Louis hasn't tried to talk to him about it all before. It's just that every time he did during those first few months, Harry never failed to remind him that what they had was something that was just temporary, just to fool around, nothing serious.

So eventually, Louis stopped asking. He just started to go with the flow and enjoy what he did have with Harry while Harry lived a life of fame and Louis lived a life behind pub doors.

It's just the way it is, Louis supposes. It's the way things turned out and maybe it is for the best. Even if part of himself doesn't believe it, he thinks about how different his life would have been had he actually still been with Harry and how much he wouldn't have liked a lot of it.

Louis doesn't like his love life to be very public but at the same time, he loved showing him off. He loved being proud of who they were, how they acted. Their love was never something he wanted to hide and he knows now that Harry had some trouble for a while with hiding who he actually is in the spotlight.

Still, Louis understands some of it now. And if being with him was what he'd wanted, he knew that he would have eventually understood that back then too.

But, Harry was the one who'd made the choice for both of them and ultimately decided that it was best that they split up so that Harry could do what he wanted to do and Louis didn't have to tie him down. He had to let him go.

As much as he also hates to admit it, he knows that Harry wouldn't have experienced a lot of what he already did if they were still together. Not because Louis would have stopped him to do so or anything, just that Harry wouldn't have been free to do so.

He wouldn't have had the chance to discover himself, accept himself and love himself the way he does now. And honestly, neither would have Louis.

Just that now, walking out of Harry's London home (because he has a homes all over the world now, apparently), he can't help but wonder; what if they could just be together again? What if Harry could just give them a chance again? What if...

What ifs are hard to stop thinking about especially when you know that they could change your whole life.

***

"Good evenin', boss man," Liam greets him as soon as he walks through the doors.

Louis smiles at him. "Hey, Li. How you doin' today, lad?"

"All good, we were not too busy today during the afternoon but Niall says lunch time was pretty decent. You may be able to close up a little earlier tonight."

Louis huffs, slightly disappointed that they haven't gotten much business today. As of recently, actually. He feels like he's been failing his uncle and aunt.

They'd left the pub to him after they'd passed, just when Louis'd started uni. A few months before Harry'd left too. God, that was a horrible time in Louis' life then.

His aunt and uncle had practically raised him, taking him in after his mum had passed when he was only two-years-old. His dad fucked off when he was just a few days old and they hadn't heard from him since so he was left in the care of his aunt and uncle until they'd passed tragically too, in a car accident out of all things.

He'd needed someone back then, just to hold him, to comfort him, because he was tired of being so strong. He was only nineteen, left with this pub to run and he had no clue where to start. Luckily, one of their oldest workers, Steve, had offered to help Louis while he studied and retired about two years ago which was when Louis'd hired Liam to help him out and Niall shortly after.

Things ran smoothly for a good few years until the past few months when business started to slow down after another pub, Danny's, opened just across from them.

He supposes people have gotten tired of the same-old, same-old and crave something newer, a bit more modern. He can't blame them but he knows he needs to do something soon to save their business because this is his only source of income and he isn't exactly sure where to start over, even if he does have a degree in marketing.

"It's all right, mate. It's just close to holiday time so people are all cooped up with their families, yeah? Nothing to worry about," he says to Louis with a reassuring smile.

Louis smiles back, lips pursed. He appreciates Liam trying to comfort him even though he knows that just before the holidays is when they're normally quite busy, if not the busiest during the year.

"We do need to come up with some new ideas though, to get back into things, yeah? Can't have us barely making a profit anymore," Louis mutters, taking a seat on the stool.

Liam pats his back, a sympathetic look on his face. "We'll meet with Niall and have a brainstorming session, yeah?"

"Yeah," Louis agrees, "maybe Monday? Since we close up early on Mondays."

"Sure, I'll have to just tell Zayn and we should be fine."

"Great," Louis musters up a smile, his heart feeling heavy all of a sudden.

His life has just been a bit of a mess recently, but it's fine, really, nothing he can't handle. He's dealt with worse after all.

"Louis, you doing all right, mate?" Liam asks, a furrow between his brows. He sits down next to his friend, all attention on him, waiting for a reply.

"Yeah, just have a lot on my mind," he admits quietly.

"Other than the pub... is it about Harry?" He asks carefully.

Louis sighs. There's honestly no point lying or keeping things from Liam because he's become one of Louis' best mates in a short amount of time, even if Louis was a little wary of him at first.

"Something like that, yeah " he confesses, letting out another sigh.

"You told him how you feel yet?"

"No," he winces, "but he told me he's staying in London for a while, working on his album and finishing it up or summat."

"Wow. Uh, how long?"

"Not sure, he didn't say how long exactly, just that it'll be over a month."

"Oh," Liam's eyes widen, "well, that's... that's good, right? You'll have time to tell him how you feel and stuff."

Louis swallows. "Um, yeah, I guess so."

"Louis, mate, you can't keep it bottled up for much longer otherwise you'll explode. You have to be honest with each other."

"Liam, he hasn't even hinted that he feels the same way I do, not even remotely so," Louis huffs, "It's just going to break my heart all over again to lose him and," his voice cracks, "and I don't know how to handle that again."

"Louis," Liam sighs, voice dripping with sympathy. He pulls Louis in for a side hug that Louis falls into immediately. "Look, we'll cross that bridge if it comes to that but right now, you won't really know until you tell him."

He's right. Louis hates when Liam is right. It's just... what he said is still valid. He doesn't know how to come back from that again. They'd dated for just over two years, starting after Harry'd turned fifteen and Louis seventeen.

Louis had taken a gap year after he'd finished school, wanting to gain some experience by working and waiting for Harry to finish school so that they could start uni together. Harry had always been a smart kid, see, so he'd started school a year early and therefore finished at just seventeen.

Then, all of a sudden, he gets thrown into a fame. It started with him playing at the pub on Friday nights, always drawing in a crowd because how could he not? His voice was beautiful--- is beautiful. Then he started uploading his songs onto soundcloud and soon enough, a talent agent had scouted him and offered him a deal he 'couldn't refuse'.

Those were the words he'd told Louis when he'd sat him down to explain what had happened and then break up with him because 'it's going to be too difficult to maintain a long distance relationship and maybe we both need to figure ourselves out without each other'.

Louis was completely heartbroken. He felt betrayed, part of him still does. But he didn't want to hold Harry back, or prevent him from doing what he loved--- something he'd dreamt of since he was ten. Who was Louis to do so?

 _We're still young, Lou_ , he'd said, _I'm sure we'll find other people along the way, you know? Not many high school sweethearts stay together anymore. You'll find someone else soon enough_.

That part was probably what hurt the most. Like Harry was just in it with a temporary mindset. Always temporary with him. Louis wishes that he would have told him that back when he'd first agreed to go out with him.

They were young, that is true, but Louis had known from the start that Harry would be something permanent in his life. Apparently, Harry hadn't gone into their relationship with same mindset. It was like, to him, Louis was just a passing relationship until he'd go onto the next one.

Perhaps the most frightening thing was the way he'd told Louis, like there was no emotion behind it all. Or, at least, not much. It was said without tears, without it looking like itd affected him at all. He left Louis with a pitiful hug and a broken heart.

It had taken him by surprise, of course. He was under the impression that they were doing well and he wanted to ask Harry to move in with him soon, as soon as he'd gotten enough money saved up.

Liked he'd said, he'd always thought that they'd be in it for the long run, something permanent. But Harry didn't want that. He still doesn't. Not with Louis, at least.

His heart shattered even further when he remembers that Harry had dated someone for three years just two years after he'd left Louis.

He remembers seeing it all over the media, printed in every magazine and newspaper. 'The current hottest couple', the headlines said.

And of course he'd been everywhere. It didn't take very long for him to gain fame. How could he not with a voice that angelic and face that beautiful?

"I don't like him, you know?" Liam says after a while, "I don't like that he's using you."

Louis sighs again. Always sighing these days. "I made a decision too, Li. I agreed to this too. I'm twenty-seven for God's sake."

"Yeah but," he licks his lips, shaking his head, "it's not like he can't tell how you feel about him and it's like, he's taking advantage of you."

"Jesus, Liam," Louis pulls away, shaking his head too, "he's not okay? Like you said, he'll only know if I tell him. As far as he's concerned, he thinks we're on the same page."

Liam hums, not entirely convinced but knowing Louis has a point. "Ten months though; it's a long time for a friends with benefits or hooking up, vibing, whatever you wanna call it, deal."

"I know," Louis laughs bitterly, "I'm just constantly on edge, waiting for him to end it because he wants to 'move on' or 'find someone else'."

Liam's frown deepens. "See, I don't like that he does that to you. Why can't he just be honest? He has to stop leading you on and you two need to have a talk about where things are going before you crash and burn, even worse than before."

"I know and we will," he mumbles, "soon."

"You better," he warns, half-hearted but serious at the same time.

"Yeah, yeah," Louis sniffs, getting off the stool, "you better leave now, your shift is over."

"Fine," Liam sighs, getting up, "call me if you need anything, yeah?"

"Yep," Louis smiles at, "bye, Li. Tell Zayn I said hello."

"Will do," Liam picks up his coat and pats Louis' back before heading out the back.

Louis exhales heavily. He shuts his eyes, taking a few deep breaths to try and calm his nerves. He can't deal with all of this right now. He has a pub to run and bills to pay. His love life will have to wait to be dealt with. In the mean time, he'll just have to enjoy whatever time he has with Harry before he leaves again.

The bell above the pub door rings then, Mr. Singh from down the road walks in.

"Evenin', Louis," he greets, pushing off his coat, "came in for a quick pint if that's okay."

"Sure, Mr. Singh. Come have a seat," he smiles. And then he's back to work, all other thoughts placed on the back burner.

It's close to half one in the early morning that Louis decides it'll probably be best to close up. They haven't had any new customers for about an hour now so there's no use staying opened.

He switches off all the lights and grabs his coat, pulling it on before heading out back and locking the door, then going to the front of the pub to do the same. He's just about to text Harry and tell him not to come to the pub when Harry himself walks up to him, poking his shoulder from behind.

Obviously, that gives Louis a fright. He jumps, turning around, hand over his heart when he realises it's just Harry. Harry giggles, muffled by his mittens. _Mittens_ , honestly.

"Gave me a fright, you noob," Louis breathes out, shaking his head.

"Sorry," Harry apologises with a wrinkle of his nose, "you closing up already?"

"Uh, yeah. Haven't been too busy today," he says, clearing his throat and looking down. He refuses to admit that the pub hasn't been doing too well. Dagger has been a hotspot for years now and he didn't want nor did he need Harry's pity right now.

"Oh," Harry frowns, "that's a shame; I wanted a pint and maybe a shot or two," he says with a devilish smile.

Louis raises an eyebrow at him. "You do?"

"Yeah," he nods, "can't you open up for just a few more minutes?" He asks, batting his eyelashes.

Louis rolls his eyes. He's always done that when he really wants something (which he, of course, will get). "All right but not for long, yeah? I'm already knackered."

"Oh," the smile falls off his face, "we don't--- we could just head out then. Honestly, Louis, I don't need it, I can come back another day or---"

"Harry, stop rambling and let's get you those drinks, yeah?"

Harry purses his lips. "Fine," he huffs.

Louis shakes his head, pushing the key into the lock and opening the door. He goes to the lights and switches them on, illuminating the pub.

"Sit, I'll pour you that pint," he mutters, already heading to the other side of the counter.

"Thanks," Harry grins, eyes scanning around, "lots of memories in this place, huh?" He says, eyes landing on the small stage to his right.

The same one Harry used to play on. Louis raises his eyebrows. "Yeah," he mumbles, unsure of what else to say.

"Sometimes I miss playing on that stage," he admits quietly.

Louis wants to ask him what is he playing at? Why is he bringing back old memories all of a sudden? Almost like he wants to torture Louis.

"You have anyone playing at the moment?" Harry asks, his eyes now back on Louis.

"No," Louis mumbles, opening the tap to pour the the beer, filling it to the rim before handing it to Harry. Harry thanks him before taking a huge sip.

"Why not?" Harry asks, a ridiculous foam moustache forming over his lips, eyebrows knitted together.

Louis can't help but smile. He shrugs in response, reaching over and wiping the foam off of his lips. "Dunno," he answers, distracted.

Truthfully, maybe part of him didn't feel like anyone held up to how good Harry was, as horrible as that sounds. But, Harry plays in arenas and stadiums now, not small dingy pubs.

Harry's eyes shine, smiling bashfully before wiping the top of his lips with the back of his coat sleeve.

"You should get someone new. Maybe I could help you choose," he suggests, a glint in his eyes.

God, what _is_ he playing at?

"Maybe," Louis murmurs, frowning. "How was the studio?" He asks instead, in desperate need of changing the subject.

"Good. Decided on another song for the tracklist today," he says, looking down at the wooden countertop. His fingers dig into a dent, picking at it.

Louis wants to bat his hand away before he gets a splinter or hurts himself. He refrains from doing so.

"Yeah?" He asks, probing him to elaborate.

"Yeah, I'm, um, I'm nervous to put this on. It's... It's the most honest I've ever been, I think, in terms of my lyrics," he says, his voice small.

"Really? Your lyrics from the first one sounded pretty vulnerable and honest."

When he first listened to it, he couldn't help but wonder if any of the songs were written about him. He had a feeling some of them were. Namely, Sweet Creature because of some of the lyrics but he didn't want to be vain so he never questioned it. Besides, if that were the case, it sounded like a love song. Which would mean he still loved Louis. And that was certainly not the case so maybe Louis just wasn't worthy of any of the songs.

It's fine, even if it does sting.

"I guess but this time," he stays focused on the bloody dent, "this time feels different."

It's vague so Louis can't help much with it. Still, he tries. He leans forward, hands on either side of the counter.

"Well, if you're scared about it, are you sure it needs to be on the tracklist? Maybe you could put another song?" He suggests.

Harry bites on his bottom lip. He shakes his head slowly. "No," he says, "this needs to be on the album--- it's important."

Louis regards him carefully. "All right," he mutters, "well, if it's important to you and the lyrics are honest, then I'm sure you'll have people relate to it and appreciate it even more."

Harry nods, finally looking up at Louis. "You're right. It needs to be heard. Thank you," he smiles, lop-sided and soft.

 _Petal_ , Louis thinks again.

"You're welcome. How about a shot?" He asks, already pulling out the vodka.

"You read my mind," he says with a wolfish smile, rubbing his hands together.

They're two shots in when Harry starts slurring. His eyes return to the stage. "Remember when you pretended to be my fan and asked me for an autograph?"

Louis frowns. Bringing up old memories again. All right then.

"Never pretended," Louis mumbles in response, "always knew you were gonna make it."

"Make it," Harry repeats, huffing, "I guess I did."

"Harry, you're one of the biggest popstars in the world. I think that constitutes as 'making it'."

"I guess," he sighs, "makes me sound ungrateful but sometimes I wish I was back here, playing in the pub and not in front of thousands of people."

Maybe it does sound slightly ungrateful but Louis can't really understand it to the same extent he does.

"Why?" He asks curiously, even though he thinks he has a good idea why.

"Because I wasn't Harry Styles, biggest popstar in the world that people go nuts about. I was just Harry from Bakers street playing in Dagger on a Friday night with my second-hand guitar and awkward jokes."

"Your jokes are still awkward," Louis chooses to reply with, unsure about what else to say. The situation seems very delicate at the moment.

Harry snorts. "Thanks," he says then turns to look at Louis again. "Remember when I blew you back in the alley behind the bar?"

Louis frowns again. "You're being awfully reminiscent today."

"Yeah," he grimaces, "sorry, think it's the vodka."

He should have known. Everybody has their poison and for Harry it's always been vodka.

"All right, well, let's get you home then. We can talk tomorrow."

"Wanna go to yours," Harry mumbles, eyes searching Louis', almost pleading.

"You sure? We aren't going to have sex, just so you know," he informs, arching a brow at him.

Harry rolls his eyes, sighing in exasperation. "I know, Lou. I just wanna go to yours, cuddle and stuff."

Cuddle. Right. They've been doing that lately, without the sex and with the sex. He gulps, nodding anyway. "Yeah, okay but if you snore I'm kicking you out."

"Don't lie. You like my snoring," Harry says, sticking his tongue out at him.

Louis doesn't want to admit that he's right. That Harry's horrid snoring actually lulls him to sleep now. He finds it hard to sleep without it. God, that's kind of weird, he knows.

"All right, shut it," Louis narrows his eyes playfully at him, "let's go, come on."

Harry follows him out the pub lethargically. He looks exhausted. Louis knows him well enough to know that the type of exhaustion on his face right now is because he was over thinking or stressed out. Sometimes one as a result of the other.

"I like your place a lot," Harry comments, shrugging off his coat.

"So you keep saying," Louis hums, "I don't know why; your place is like, triple the size."

"Size doesn't matter," Harry says, smirking at him.

"Right, you keep telling yourself that Mr. I-love-your-big-cock-Louis," he says smugly, heading to the bedroom.

"Louis," he gasps, "stop that."

"Am I wrong?" He asks, giving Harry a challenging look. He starts to undress like Harry. It all feels very domestic; very much like they're a couple again.

"Shut up," he mumbles, a rosy pink blush to his cheeks as he gets under the duvet.

Louis laughs softly before joining him. He turns to face Harry, opening up his arms. Harry stares at him before snuggling into him.

"You're too good to me, you know?" He says softly, running his fingers along Louis' bicep.

Louis hopes Harry can't feel the way heart beats wildly in his chest. Judging by the way his warm breath hits Louis' bare chest, Louis thinks he just might know.

"You going back to the studio tomorrow?" He asks instead, fingers dancing over Harrys spine.

"Yeah, for a few hours. Are you free in the afternoon?"

"Yes," Louis says, "got the midday shift."

"Okay," Harry noses at his chest, "we can have some tea together then, maybe?"

"Sure," Louis agrees easily.

Harry really doesn't know how much he has Louis wrapped around his finger. Louis doesn't think he could ever say no to him.

***

The following two weeks are the same sort of pattern; they meet everyday, have some sort of lunch, dinner or tea together, sometimes breakfast, they make small talk and Louis loses his mind over how comfortable he is being with Harry, continuing to pine over the boy like nobody's business, Liam scolds him for not talking to Harry yet and they have sex a handful of times in between too.

It's... eventful. It's confusing, just like it has been for the past few months now. It's killing Louis slowly, to live like this. Knowing he's hopelessly in love with this boy who probably is going to drop him any second now.

Louis sighs. He can't think about that right now. Not while Harry is literally in his room as Louis makes them breakfast. He has to focus on something else.

He focuses on dishing out the eggs on the plate instead. He's making them breakfast in bed, god he's never felt more confused in his entire life. Liam is right, Louis needs to talk to Harry soon. They can't keep doing this, only for them to crash and burn in the end like Liam said. But worse than before. Right.

When Louis walks back into the room, he doesn't expect Harry to be awake. Even though, between the two of them, Harry is normally the early riser, Louis couldn't sleep so he decided to wake up even earlier and make them breakfast.

What's even more surprising is the fact that Harry is reading through a notebook. _Louis'_ notebook. He feels agitated suddenly. Harry has no right looking through his things like that. His private things.

"Harry," he calls out, rushing towards him.

Harry shuts the book closed and hastily drops it onto the nightstand. "Hi," he greets, eyes wide, "I was just--- it was there and there was something that caught my eye so I started to read it," he explains in a ramble, "I'm sorry."

"That's my private stuff, Harry," he says, almost scolding him. Louis shakes his head, placing the two plates down onto the bed and grabbing his notebook, pushing it back into the drawer.

He probably shouldn't have left it out but that didn't give Harry the right to snoop.

"Sorry," Harry winces, "I really am, Louis. I just--- the lyrics--- at least they sound like lyrics--- they're amazing."

Louis breathes heavily, heart pounding in his ears. "What did you read?" He asks, trying to keep calm.

"It was a song called Selfish," Harry answers, looking down at his lap.

Louis exhales heavily. God, not that out of all the songs he'd written. He wrote it a few years back, probably after he'd seen Harry out with someone else for the first time.

It wasn't his proudest moment. He was sad and angry and a lot of the song comes the deepest parts of his heart. It's just... it sounded a little petty, a little mean too but he couldn't help it.

There's an awkward silence that looms over them, none of them sure about how to approach this situation.

"I made breakfast," Louis mumbles, walking to his side of the bed again.

"Louis," Harry says hesitantly, tone cautious.

"Harry," he cuts him off before he can continue, "let's just--- I made us eggs, you like them scrambled right?"

"Louis, please," he says, his tone desperate which is why Louis looks at him, pinching his eyebrows together.

"What?" He asks with a sigh.

"The song... I didn't, um, I didn't know you still write," he starts, twiddling his thumbs.

"Sometimes," Louis answers vaguely.

"That song... it's about me, isn't it?"

Louis inhales sharply. "What makes you think that?"

"Louis," he says, sounding tired and giving him a pointed look.

"Yes, if you must know, it's about you," Louis answers in a murmur, cheeks hot, "you can't be surprised."

"I'm--- well, um, I guess I shouldn't be. I wrote some about you," he admits quietly.

It's something Louis has suspected but he's still shocked, somehow. "I figured."

"This is... awkward, isn't it?" He asks, rubbing the back of his neck. "I guess we never, um, we never spoke about that part."

"Yeah," Louis says, gnawing on his bottom lip. All he wanted to do was have breakfast.

"You really feel that way about me?" Harry asks quietly.

Louis shrugs. Part of him still does, he isn't going to lie about it, but there's part of him that doesn't. "It's how I felt at the time," he reveals, "can we have our breakfast now?"

"Yeah," Harry mutters, then hands him the plate of eggs and toast. "Thank you for this."

"You're welcome," Louis says, still feeling the tension between them. Bringing up their past is something they don't do. It's like an unspoken rule betweem them. There's little memories here and there, sure, but nothing about _them_.

It's just... if Louis wants to tell Harry about he really feels, there's going to have to be awkward, sad and angry discussions about their past. They have to talk about it eventually to move on, however which way they choose to move on.

For now, they sit in a heavy silence and eat their breakfast. It's not bad; Louis considers making scrambled eggs more often. 

Harry doesn't say much to Louis either, not that Louis expects him to. He leaves shortly after he finishes what Louis made with an awkward wave and tight smile. Louis sighs once the door is shut, sagging against it. God, his songs are something he never wanted Harry to find. Anyone for that matter.

Who knows what other songs he'd seen and just hadn't told Louis he did. Louis feels embarrassed and violated. He gulps, pushing it away for now and heads to the shower to get ready for his shift at work.

☆☆☆

_Shouldn't love you, but I couldn't help it_  
_Had a feeling that you never felt it_  
_I always knew that you were too damn selfish_  
_Don't know why I looked the other way_  
_I wanted you to change, yeah_  
_I shouldn't love you, but I couldn't help it_  
_I always knew that you were too damn selfish_

_-_ _**Madison Beer - Selfish** _

☆☆☆

Harry doesn't see him for the next two days. He doesn't get any calls or texts either and Louis sure as hell isn't going to text him first. He's still mad that Harry snooped through his things.

His fowl mood doesn't go unnoitced by Niall, who keeps giving Louis worried looks throughout the day.

"What?" He finally snaps at him when he feels Niall's stare burn a hole through the back of his head as he wipes the countertop.

Niall's eyes widen, adams apple bobbing in his throat. "Nothing, just... are you okay? You seem... off."

"I'm just not in the mood, okay?" Louis sighs, going back to vigorously wiping the wooden counter. He's pretty sure it's spotless by now but it doesn't hurt to go an extra mile. Whatever.

"It's Harry, isn't it?" Niall asks, clearly not buying what Louis said.

When Louis doesn't reply, Niall continues. "Haven't seen him in a few days," he says, "everything okay between you two?"

Niall adores Harry. He proper fangirled the first time he saw Harry, asking for his autograph and everything. So Louis feels bad if he ever has something not-positive to say about Harry. He feels like hes somehow offending him.

And he knows about Harry and Louis, just like Liam and Zayn do because they've never really been subtle about anything and Harry didn't seem to mind, even if he was apprehensive about it at first.

"Peachy," Louis mumbles in reply, then throws the cloth he's using into the bin. He turns around, "gonna head out now, you okay from here?"

"Yeah, all good," he smiles, "good luck."

Louis rolls his eyes half-heartedly. "Goodbye, Niall."

Louis rushes home, not wanting to be on the cold for too long. He's startled when he sees Harry sitting outside his door, legs crossed with a pink beanie on. Harry looks up at Louis when he approaches him, eyes wide and doe-like, cheeks and lips pink from what Louis assumes is the cold, a few stray curls poking out from the edges of the beanie. God, how did he ever stay mad at Harry?

 _Resist_ , he reminds himself.

"Harry, what are you doing here?" He asks, not unkind, just curious and a little suspicious.

"Hi," he breathes out, then pushes himself up onto his feet, "sorry, I was gonna call but then I forgot and before I knew it, I was already here," he huffs, "I was hoping we could talk for a bit--- I actually wanna show you something, if you're okay with that."

He's nervous, Louis observes. From the way he's rocking back and forth on his feet and twitching, literally everywhere, he's a little more than nervous.

"Okay, uh, can I just freshen up quickly?"

"Yeah, sure."

Louis opens up the door and heads straight to the bathroom.

"We have to use the back entrance, bt the way," Harry calls out as Louis washes his face.

"Paps?" Louis asks.

"Uh, fans. And I don't want to risk them finding out where I am, you know?"

Realistically, Louis knows it's not because of anything personal. It's because he just wants his privacy. He needs to remind himself of that.

"All right," he says instead then wipes his face.

"Sorry," he says to Louis once Louis meets him in the hallway, "a fan saw me earlier so I just wanna keep it a low-key for now."

"It's okay, Harry, I get it," he cuts him off before he rambles further, "maybe not fully but I can understand it, somewhat."

"Thank you," he mumbles, then looks at Louis, "let's go?"

"Yeah, come on," Louis leads him out, hand on the small of his back. He'll find time later to scold himself for doing that like he used to. Even if it seems like Harry doesn't mind it, doesn't even flinch really.

Harry drives them back to his home, much to Louis' surprise. The way he'd made it seem, like he was going to take Louis somewhere... unsual, special, maybe?

"We're at your place," Louis states dumbly, turning to Harry.

Harry nods. "Yeah, but I wanna take you to the studio room," he explains.

"Studio room?" Louis frowns, "wait, if you have a studio here, why do you have to go out to another one?"

"It's not, like, a proper one. Just a little one for my own use. The one I go to is the fancy, where they do the editing, final touches and all that."

"Oh," Louis says, "well, what is it then? That you wanted to show me? I swear to god if it's another one of your dick jokes---"

"It's not," Harry laughs, shaking his head, "it's not the time for one of my _penis_ jokes," he corrects, eyes slightly narrowed, "I wanna show you--- play you something."

Louis searches his face. "Play?"

If this is what Louis thinks it is---

"At the studio inside, yeah," He unbuckles his seatbelt, "come on."

"O-okay," Louis blinks, doing the same and following Harry inside.

His house is warm, like it always is, even when Louis'd come here for brief moments during the warmer months. Also like before is the strong smell of coffee that lingers in the air.

 _Don't get much time to rest anymore_ , he explained it to Louis, _so I had to go from tea to coffee_.

"This way," Harry guides him through his home until they reach a corner with a black door. Louis has seen the door, just never ventured further. He only ever stays wherever Harry goes.

The studio, as Harry said before, is small. It's no bigger than Louis' own bedroom.

"Sit," Harry instructs, patting the swinging chair opposite him. Louis obliges, sitting on the chair. They're at one of them places where you control the sound with the switches and pushing buttons back and forth, right outside a small recording booth. Louis can't be bothered to remember the name of it, even if he's reminded of it numerous times.

"Here," Harry hands him a pair of headphones then opens up a laptop before clicking on a file. Then there's music flooding Louis' ears.

The sound is rough, a little choppy, clear that it hasn't gone through the normal editing Harry's songs usually go through first. But it's wonderful nonetheless. The unusual start of it grips him, and then the lyrics actually start, Harry's voice raw and thick and sweet as he sings.

The lyrics--- they're beautiful, Louis thinks. Much like the other songs he's written, Louis likes this one too. It's only until he starts the chorus that Louis realises something. His face falls, looking up at Harry.

Harry is looking at him with intent, eyes swimming with emotion, glistening in the poor lighting. And then he starts singing in Louis' ears again and Louis' heart constricts in his chest painfully. It's--- it's a lot to take in all at once.

The track comes to an end and Louis pulls off his headphones slowly, handing them back to Harry. He takes a moment to compose himself before looking at him again. His green eyes are staring back, wide and scared, almost pleading, in a way. For what, Louis isn't too sure.

"The song... it's for me?" He asks. Again, he doesn't want to just assume things it's just, the lyrics are too specific to about anything else.

"Yeah," Harry confesses, voice small, "something I should have told you--- sang to you, I guess--- a long time ago; something you deserve."

Louis swallows, exhaling shakily. "What--- what do you mean?"

"Well," he starts with a huff, "it's an apology, Louis. Or, a start of one, at the very least. I--- I didn't realise back then how much I'd hurt you, you know? I figured you'd just be fine afterwards because you always have been but I realise now that you weren't and what I did, it was so so shitty of me to do."

Louis feels like his breath is caught in his throat and his tongue has been cut off because he has no idea how to respond to that.

"I know we don't... talk about what happened to us but I figured that I owe you this," Harry looks down at his lap, voice growing quieter, "after reading what you wrote about me... I couldn't get it out of my head."

"Harry," he sighs, feeling guilty about his words. Words he'd written years ago. "It wasn't--- it's not like that anymore."

"Yeah but it was at one stage," Harrys eyes flicker up to Louis', dark and stormy behind the clear green, "and knowing you thought about me like that---" he shakes his head, "I just know I screwed up."

Louis feels his body tighten. He's been waiting for those words for years. Years. Yet somehow, part of him is still unsatisfied.

"The point is, I'm so sorry, Louis," Harry says, eyes glued onto his, "I wish I go back and take away the hurt I caused but I can't so this is the best I can offer you right now."

Louis studies him for a moment bedore sighing again. "Look, I know--- You're right, you screwed up," Louis says, watching Harry's head drop in shame, "but," Louis continues, "you were also only seventeen at the time, love."

"My age can't be used as an excuse," he shakes his head stubbornly, "for years, that's what I'd told myself and I just can't do that anymore, especially now, knowing how much I hurt you."

Louis remains quiet, letting Harry finish voice out whats been on his mind. Louis can tell that he really needs it.

"But I want you to know," he looks at Louis with his eyes brewing with a desperate emotion, lip quivering slightly, "that I did love you, more than anything in the entire world."

Louis can't help but tear up at that. He exhales, shaking his head because he can't believe Harry's telling him all of this now. _Now_.

"It hurt me the most to read that part where you wrote that you thought I'd never felt it because I actually loved you--- I really, really did. Leaving you was the hardest thing I've ever had to do."

Louis feels a tear escape from his left eye, vision blurred now.

"And it pains me to think you believed--- or believe--- that I didn't love you, Louis. I'm so sorry I ever led you to believe something like that but I don't blame you--- what I did did look that way. But now--- now I need you to know that our love was the realest thing I've ever felt."

"Jesus, Harry," Louis exhales, swallowing after, "it's a good fucking song, you know that?"

Harry smiles, small and an ounce of happiness seeping through. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," he sighs, "I'm sorry too; for writing the song, I mean. I--- I was really angry at the time and I was just so sad--- not my proudest moment."

"Don't apologise for what you felt, Lou. It hurt to read but it helped me muster up the courage to finally give you an apology that's _long_ overdue."

"Thank you," Louis says sincerely, "for what it's worth, I am still sorry too. I know you loved me, even if I did have insecure doubts about it now and then."

It isn't a lie. He knows they loved each other, even if Harry didn't take their relationship as seriously as Louis did. It didn't change what they'd felt for each other bedore hed left.

For years, Louis wondered if Harry'd felt the same. If he pondered over whether their love was true or not or if it was just a passing thing. He supposes to Harry, it kind of is but he realises now that it wasn't any less meaningful. What Louis says still stands; he was only seventeen. A seventeen-year-old vulnerable boy, fresh out of high school meets some people who dangle his lifelong dream in front of his eyes. Point being, Louis does get it now. Even if he's still mad about certain things--- sad about others--- he gets certain aspects of it.

"I'm sorry I ever made you doubt that," Harry mutters, sounding ashamed.

"I just--- I think it was the way you said it to me. The--the day you told me you were leaving, remember?"

Harry looks up at him, a pinch between his brows. He nods. "Vaguely," he winces, "I know how it seemed... but it wasn't like that, I---"

"You what?" Louis asks gently.

"I thought it would be easier if I did it the way I did. You---you have no idea how many times I had to practice saying that without breaking down crying," he laughs mirthlessly, "when I saw your face," he shakes his head, "I didn't know if I could stay there any longer without giving in, staying."

"I'm glad you didn't," Louis says after a while. "No listen," he effectively stops Harry from protesting, "I didn't like the way it was done and yes for years I was completely heartbroken because Harry," he inhales, "you were... you were so important to me."

_You still are._

He bites back those words and carries on, "but look at you now, H," he lets the nickname slip, "you're _The_ Harry Styles for fucks sake and I'm really proud of you."

"Thank you," Harry sniffles, wiping his eyes, "I'm really proud of you too."

Louis rolls his eyes. "Yeah," he says, not convinced he is or that he should be.

"You should be too," Harry says with a frown, his gaze intense, "you've done so much and your mum and aunt and uncle would be proud of you, Lou."

Louis smiles weakly. "Thanks, H. That---that means a lot to me."

Harry smiles at him like he really is proud of him and Louis still doesn't think he fully deserves it but he does anyway and it feels--it feels good. Good to know that the blood, sweat and tears he's put into the pub have paid off.

"I'm sorry for doing what I did and for how I did it," Harry says again, "I guess... I was so afraid of being broken I decided to be the one doing the breaking instead," he wrinkles his nose, rubbing a palm over his face, "so you were right... I guess I am selfish."

Louis opens his mouth but Harry shakes his head at him. "Wait, Lou," he says, "I am selfish but I don't want to be anymore," he chews on his bottom lip, "so... I understand if you don't want to continue... whatever we have going on. I want you to move on and do whatever you need or want to do because you deserve it."

Louis is rendered speechless. His heart sinks. He doesn't know what to do or say.

"We're both different people now, Louis," he continues, "and I think I've grown up enough to know how much I've hurt you and I don't wanna continue doing it."

"Harry," he says, tone sad, "I don't--- what do you want to do, love?" He can't help the way his voice goes soft. He's always been a softie, moreso around Harry.

"It's not about me anymore, Lou," he sniffs, eyes filled with unshed tears.

_Tell me you want me. All of me. In every way. Again._

Louis is desperate just to hear those words from Harry but he isn't budging.

"We both decided to do what we're doing, Harry. We both have to decide what we want to happen from here."

Harry nods, though his reluctant and short. "I--- I just know that I don't want to lose you... again. And it makes me sound selfish, and that's something I don't want to do anymore, Lou so, just, do what you want to do because I---"

Louis pushes forward, cutting him off with a kiss because god Harry can't stop talking sometimes. Harry follows his lips, kissing him back, hands cupping Louis' face.

"What I want," Louis says, pulling away from him, breath hot and heavy, "what I want is you."

"You want to continue whatever we have going on?" Harry asks, his tone hopeful mixed with an emotion Louis can't quite depict. 

This is his chance. He knows that this is chance to say what's been on his mind for months now, something he knows he can't avoid as long as this continues.

"Lou?" He asks, sounding slightly disappointed.

"Yes," he blurts out, "yes we can carry on what we have--- I want that."

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Harry lets out a breath. "Exactly what we have?" He questions, green eyes searching his.

Louis nods weakly, passing him a feeble smile.

Harry swallows then kisses him again, softer but passionate all the same.

Louis knows he's fucked it up now. But he can't find himself regretting it in that moment because he has Harry here with him, kissing him and holding him close. He realises just how much he wants this--- needs this. What he said is true; what he wants is Harry, that hasn't changed.

☆☆☆

_I got the good side of life_  
_Traveled the universe twice_  
_So many thoughts I wanted to share_  
_But I didn't call 'cause it wouldn't be fair_  
_Then I got the good side of new_  
_Found arms to fall right into_  
_I know how it looked, it wasn't the plan_  
_And some day I hope that you'll understand_

_I sympathize, and I recognize_  
_And baby, I apologize_  
_That I got the good side_  
_The good side of things_

_**\- Troye Sivan- The Good Side.** _

☆☆☆

They fall back into a pattern after that, like nothing's changed but everything has at the same time. It's still confusing. Liam scolds him about it like he's an incompetent child. He doesn't even bother to fight back because he knows he's right.

He still keeps pushing Louis to tell Harry the truth. Louis still feels scared to even say anything.

"He told you the truth. Don't you think he deserves the same?" Liam asked, making a valid point Louis couldnt argue with.

Maybe part of him still feels bitter about everything. About the fact that he got left, he had to deal with a broken heart while Harry got more and more famous as the days went by.

Maybe he didn't want to tell him the truth because part of him still felt like it was unfair. Well, honestly, none of this was fair.

Harry did give him an out and he didn't take it. He can't keep placing the blame on him any longer. He had a chance to be honest and he didn't take it.

God this is so fucked up.

"Lou?"

"Hey, love," Louis says, his voice going impossibly soft.

"You okay?" He asks, croaking out, voice thick with sleep.

"Yeah, sorry. Just thinking about stuff," Louis exhales, "you can go back to sleep, H."

"Maybe I should stop actually," Harry yawns then stretches his long body in the sheets (that are doing a very poor job of covering his naked body, mind you).

Louis eyes him hungrily and unabashedly. When doesnt he? Harry seems to notice, pushing the sheets off himself completely, a knowing smirk on his face.

Louis licks his lips, watching as he turns to lie on his stomach in what he probably thinks is a subtle manner. "What do you think you're doing, exactly?"

"Just, you know, getting comfortable," he shrugs, wiggling his bum.

Louis laughs softly, shaking his head. "You should be getting some sleep, darling. You haven't been sleeping much."

He mentally scolds himself for using yet another petname. It's not weird, really. He uses it with everyone so it shouldn't be.

Except--- except he doesn't call Liam, Niall or Zayn 'darling' or 'love'. Whatever. Too much to think about now.

"I will but I'm hungry," he pouts, sighing, "let's make something to eat?"

"I don't have much," Louis winces.

He hasn't been buying too much of groceries, being on a bit of a budget and stuff.

Harry's face falls a bit, a look of sympathy replaces his smirk from earlier. "We can go to mine or just order some pizza?"

Louis doesn't like that he seems pitiful. "Harry, just use what you need to, okay? If we need anything else then I'll buy it."

Harry stays quiet, eyes shifting over Louis' face worriedly. "You don't have to be ashamed, you know? Everybody goes through financial issues, babe."

 _Babe_. Louis' heart flutters.

"Except you," Louis remarks, raising an eyebrow at him, "how do you even know about that?" He frowns.

"Niall," Harry says, giving him an apologetic look. "Not on purpose though--- it just slipped the last time I was there, I swear," he rushes out.

Louis sighs tiredly. "Yeah, well. Now you know, I guess."

"You could have told me, Lou," he says gently, "you know I wouldn't have judged you or anything like that, right?"

"It's not about that, Harry. It's embarassing," he snaps, then sighs, "I work so hard for the place and---" he stops himself from carrying on, feeling his throat weigh thick with emotion.

Louis looks away, turning around on the armchair. He hears shuffling from the bed then there's arms around him, hugging him tightly, even in his awkward position on the chair.

When Louis looks up, Harry is on his knees, hugging Louis to his chest, even if he's slightly shorter this way. Louis isn't crying but he's close to and being in Harry's arms doesn't help.

"It's okay, Lou. It'll be okay," he says, rubbing his hand over Louis' back, "you guys will think of something and---and I can help out if you really need it."

Louis shakes his head, pushing himself away. "No, Harry, I can't do that, you know I can't."

"Louis, this is bigger than your pride and you know that," he says firmly, "I get why you'd be apprehensive about it, I really do, but this is to help the pub, and I would do anything to save it," he voice gets softer, quieter, "it holds a lot of memories for me."

Louis sighs in defeat. "Fine, I get it. But I need to try and solve this with Niall and Liam first before getting anything from you, okay? I have to try."

Harry looks down at him, eyes focused on Louis' facial expression. He nods. "Okay, but you'll tell me if you need my help okay?"

"I will," Louis promises, even if, like Harry said, he's apprehensive about it.

"Good," he smiles, then moves a piece of hair away from Louis' face. It feels so tender Louis wants to cry. "Let's go make something to eat, yeah? I'm sure it'll take your mind off of things for a bit."

"Yeah, okay," he agrees with a small smile then follows Harry to the kitchen.

Harry insists that they make pancakes since it's Louis' favourite and he even puts extra chocolate chips in them. God, Louis loves him. 

Louis isn't sure what's gotten into him but as Harry mixes the batter, he dips his finger in and smears some on Harry's cheek. He blames it on the fact that Harry is half naked, making them pancakes in the middle of the afternoon, being all domestic and shit.

Harry gapes at him, pausing with his hand on the spatula. "What--- why would you do that, Lou? I just did my face mask and you go and put pancake batter _on my face,"_ he pouts, wiping it off with the back of his hand.

Louis rolls his eyes. "People put weird shit on their faces nowadays anyways. You don't know, maybe pancake batter could be good for you," he shrugs then turns to the fridge to get out the butter.

He's abruptly pulled into Harry's chest from behind, a wet dollop of batter placed all over the left side of his face. Louis pushes himself away, turning around to scowl at Harry.

Harry, of course, finds it highly amusing, covering his giggles with his clean hand.

"All right then, you wanna play it that way," Louis narrows his eyes, hastily reaching for the bowl, snatching it. "Lets play it that way then."

Then he surges forward, taking a big blob of the batter and smearing it across whatever part of Harrys face he can get to with him squirming away.

Harry giggles again, Louis joining him when he corners Harry and places another round of the mixture onto his nose, booping it. Their foreheads touch, breathing heavy. Louis' playful mood drops, suddenly replaced with want and a stuttering breath.

He's too caught up in staring at Harry that he doesn't realise Harry's snatched the bowl from him, placing his fingers in and coming at Louis, backing him up against the counter and wiping the batter across Louis' other cheek.

Louis groans, wrinkling his nose. His face feels heavy with batter mixed with chocolate chips that slowly fall off of his face and onto his floor.

Harry cackles, placing the bowl behind Louis and kissing his nose. "Gotcha," he says smugly.

All Louis can think is, _you have no fucking idea_. All he does is lean forward to kiss him softly. He starts off slow, licking into him, pushing him against the opposite counter, one hand cupping his jaw and the other venturing down.

Harry lets out a moan when Louis squeezes his bum. Louis pulls back, smiling, smirking more, their foreheads touching again.

Harry matches his smile, wasting no time and kissing Louis again. This time his smile presses against Louis' lips as they move together. Louis can't help but grin into it too, breaths short like their kisses but sweet nonetheless.

Louis is dizzy with love, domesticity, happiness, that he pulls away but extends his arm, saying, "dance with me."

Harry stares at him like he's growing another head, smile still present but expression confused. "What? To what music, exactly?"

Louis shrugs. "Play it in your mind."

Harry huffs out a laugh, shaking his head. "You're ridiculous, how is that going to work?"

"Nicely," he replies easily, shrugging again, "come on you dull dud, just dance with me."

Harry glares at him playfully before sighing, cupping their hands together. Louis pulls him in by his hand before letting go and landing both on his waist. Harry snakes his arms around Louis' neck, smiling.

"Now we dance," Louis grins, starting to sway him.

Harry snorts, looking down briefly before meeting Louis' eyes again. "You're a little silly, you know?"

Louis rolls his eyes. "Harry, stop overthinking it and just play the song in your head and let's dance."

Harry gives him an unimpressed look. " _I_ overthink?"

"Harry," he sighs.

"Fine," Harry mumbles, closing his eyes then exhaling through his nose, "okay," he opens his eyes, "think I got one."

"Thank god," he sighs dramatically.

It's Harrys turn to roll his eyes this time. "All right, let's just dance come on."

Louis listens, swaying them a little more, eyes glued on Harry's. He's beautiful, even with pancake mixture all over his face, chocolate chips dropping out. All soft with how he looks at Louis. _Petal_ , he thinks again for what feels like hundredth time.

They exchange small pecks here and there and Louis can't help but think that this is definitely not how friends with benefits--- or whatever this casual thing is--- work.

"We should probably clean up," Louis mumbles eventually, even though he doesn't really want to separate from Harry's warmth.

Harry exhales through his nose, nodding. "Yeah," he says, sounding like he slurs the word, "gonna join me in the shower?"

Louis smiles at him but shakes his head. "I have to call Liam and Niall now but I'll get in after you."

"Okay," he huffs, pulling away much to Louis' dismay, "I'm guessing I'll only get to see you again tomorrow then?"

Louis nods regretably. "Sorry, love," he says, "don't have nightshift tomorrow though, on the bright side."

"Good," he smiles, "let me know when you're free then."

"I will. Now get into the shower, you're dirty."

Harry rolls his eyes. "So are you, in case you haven't noticed."

"Yeah, yeah," he waves him off, "you didn't get as much on me as I got on you though."

Harry sighs, shaking his head fondly. "Whatever," he mumurs. Just before he turns around to walk away, he faces Louis again. "Out of curiosity, what song were you playing in your head?"

Louis gulps. He decides to answer honestly. "The one from your first album; Sweet Creature."

The answers hangs in the air, Harrys face contorting into something he can only explain as touched and emotional but also disbelief at the same time.

"Really?"

"Yeah, it's... it's a sweet song," Louis admits, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks.

"I'm glad you liked it," Harry says quietly.

"What were you playing?"

Harry inhales sharply, biting his lip. "Shania Twain, Still The One."

Louis wants to believe that that means something. It has to, right? There may be a chance that Harry reciprocates what Louis feels but what does he know, really? He knows its Harrys favourite song, so that's probably why it was playing in his head.

"Right, well I'm going to shower," Harry says after a moment of silence, gesturing behind himself with his thumb.

"Right, okay, bye," Louis says, lips pursed into a smile.

Louis sighs once he's gone, leaning back against the counter. What they have now--- it's hardly even sexual anymore. The sex is great, there's no doubt about that. But there's _so_ much more now.

He has a feeling their talk helped a lot. Communicating helped, big surprise there. Louis honestly didn't expect that from Harry.

The lyrics to that song... they haunt him. The apology written into those words is evident. He loved it so much, he wanted to hear it again right after it finished.

Louis wonders if that's the song he was nervous about putting on his album. If not, his mind wanders to what else it could be. Maybe it's equally as vulnerable and emotional but in a different sense. Maybe it's a love song about someone else. Could it be though?

He knows that it goes without say that what they have is an exclusive thing even if it isn't serious. But he could still be in love with someone else, hung up on them, pining over them like he's pining over Harry.

God, maybe he does overthink. With a sigh, he heads back to the bedroom, finding Harry already on the bed, underneath the covers properly this time, fast asleep.

Louis should have known he'd be passed out by now. He's been working long nights and early mornings with not enough sleep.

He takes a quick shower, making sure the sticky mixture is wiped off his face properly before joining Harry in bed, facing him.

Louis touches the side of his face gingerly before pulling his hand away. There's a lot he needs to sort out, especially between them but for now, they'll sleep on their problems and solve them in their dreams. 

***

It's late on a Thursday night, they're in bed together, Louis over Harry, hips snapping back and forth slowly into him. Harry's moaning softly underneath him, one hand around Louis' neck, the other running up and down his back. 

His cheeks are beautifully flushed a rosey pink all the way down to his chest. He wraps his legs around Louis' waist to pull him closer, the space between them disappearing entirely, sweaty chests pressed together. 

The angle is deeper, more intimate in the way they look into each other's eyes even though Harry struggles to keep his eyes opened for too long. 

"Louis," he moans softly, eyes bright and green. 

"So beautiful," Louis kisses him, hot and heavy, then makes his way down to his neck then shoulder then perked nipples, sucking them as best as he can at this position. "Petal," he says, kissing his way back to Harry's mouth. 

Harry whimpers, Louis quickening his pace, hips pistoning back and forth, skin slapping together. 

Harry places a hand on Louis' chest, pushing him back, causing him to stop instantly. 

"What is it, darling? Did I hurt you? Are you okay?" Louis asks, searching his face for any signs of discomfort. 

Harry breathes heavily, nodding. He squeezes his eyes shut briefly. "Wanna ride you," he says. 

Louis almost comes right there and then. Harry loves riding him, says he loves the way it feels. Honestly, he says that about most positions but riding is his specialty and it drives Louis crazy. 

Personally, Louis likes to be ridden rather than riding, preferring other positions whenever he does bottom. 

"Lou?" He asks, moving the hair from Louis' forehead, a pinch between his brows. 

"Yeah--- yes, shit," Louis reaches down, holding the base of his cock, pulling out slowly. He hisses, leaning back on his haunches. 

"Sit against the headboard," Harry says, leaning up on his elbows. 

"Yeah, okay," Louis says, heart pounding in his ears. 

He sits on the bed, back against the leather headboard. Harry pushes himself up lazily, swinging his legs on either side of Louis' thighs. Harry rest his hands on Louis' shoulders while Louis rests his on Harrys hips, squeezing his love handles. 

He reaches behind himself with one hand, twisting around to hold Louis' cock and sink down onto him, achingly slow. 

Louis throws his head back when Harrys bum meets his groin, bottoming out. He leans his forehead against Louis', mouth hanging opened as he moves slowly up and down Louis' cock. 

God, he's so tight like this. Louis pulls him closer, pulling at his thighs. Harry's arms snake around his neck, his neck right at Louis' mouth. He has to suck a big bruise onto the column on his throat, tasting the saltiness on his tongue and lapping at it. 

Harry whimpers, one hand tightening around Louis' hair, his hips moving faster. Louis' hands run over the smooth skin of his back then onto the pert flesh of his bum, squeezing it in his hands. His thumb meets the edge of Harry's rim where he's being stretched open by Louis' cock. 

Harry's hips stutter, letting out a moan. "Push it in," he says, leaning forward again, his breathing hot over Louis' face. 

Louis watches his face screw up in ecstasy as he pushes the tip of his thumb alongside his cock. Harry looks absolutely wrecked, his whole face turning pinker, rosier. God, he's just so beautiful. 

Louis doesn't think he has it in him to continue so he takes matters into his own hands, planting his feet onto the mattress and thrusting upwards into him. 

Harry falls into him, letting out a loud moan. "Oh, oh Louis," he says breathlessly. His mouth hangs opened in pure bliss as Louis goes quicker, pulling Harry flush against him. 

"Feel so good, baby," Louis clutches the back of Harry's head, pulling the strands of his hair and meeting him in a filthy kiss. It's messy, there's too much of saliva and their lips only barely touch before either one of them lets out a moan or groan or something in between. 

Harry's walls are tight and warm around him, clenching as he comes over their stomachs with a stuttering moan and opened mouth, chanting Louis' name. 

It doesn't take long for Louis to come inside of him, the condom pulsing with his hot come as he grunts into Harry's neck, lapping up the sweet nectar of his skin. 

They collapse into each other, chests heaving. Harry lets out a breathless laugh. 

"Fuck," he exhales. 

"We kind of already did," Louis quips, smiling up at him lethargically. 

Harry smiles, dimples popping beautifully. Louis pushes his thumb into one, grinning too. 

"Is that the thumb you put in my arse?" Harry asks with a small laugh. 

Louis chuckles. "Maybe, why? Is that a problem?" 

"No," Harry hums, grabbing Louis' hand from his face and pushing Louis' thumb into his mouth and sucking it obscenely, eyes on Louis. 

"Jesus, Harry," Louis breathes out, his cock twitching. 

Harry grins wolfishly, pulling his thumb out and intertwining their fingers instead. "'M tired now," he mumbles. 

"Of course you are," Louis sighs, shaking his head fondly. He leans up to kiss Harry, lips soft and sweet. They give each other small little pecks before Harry pulls away. 

"Come on, let's cuddle," Harry says, pushing himself off of Louis and dropping onto the bed next to him, face turning into the pillow. 

Harry gives him a lazy smile. Louis grins back, ignoring how fast his heart is beating. 

"I'll bring a cloth and clean us up first," Louis says, patting Harrys bum. He reaches down and pulls off the condom, putting it in the bin on his way to the bathroom. 

When he gets back into the room, Harry is half asleep already, eyes drifting shut. Louis shakes his head. He should have known, Harry is always extra exhausted and cuddly after sex. 

Louis wipes himself down then wipes Harry as best as he can while hes asleep. Yes, fast asleep, already snoring softly. 

Louis tosses the cloth to the side, elbow propping his face up, looking down at Harry. His chest feels warm, his heart feels full and his stomach is fluttering.

He runs his fingers through Harry's curly, unruly hair. It seems like he's growing it again, the hair curling at the ends, soft to the touch. 

He stares at Harry, so different and grown up, a small bit of stubble on his face, bags under his eyes, jaw more defined--- yet he's still all the same, his cheeks are soft, flushed, his lips are just as sweet, his eyes are just as green, smile just as breathtaking. 

Louis cards his fingers through the end of his hair and then land on his cheek. "I've fallen in love with you all over again," he blurts out in a small voice, a lump forming in his throat, "I honestly don't think I've ever stopped, you know?" He continues, his heart feel heavier but shoulders lighter. "I'm hoplessly and desperately in love with you." 

Louis lets his tears fall, but wipes them away quickly, pulling his hand back and turning away before getting up again and hurrying to the bathroom again to compose himself. 

He can't keep this to himself anymore. He knows he can't. He technically did tell him--- but he knows it doesn't count. God, Louis just doesn't know what to do anymore. Everything feels too much but not enough at the same time. 

  
*** 

Louis may be ignoring Harry. But he isn't doing it on purpose. Or well, he kind of is but it's not like he _wants_ to, he just _needs_ to right now. It's not right but Louis never claims to be right anyway.

It's only been a week after all, they can deal with it. They've been away from each other for months and before that, years. They can deal with just a few days.

He keeps sending Louis texts, asking to meet up with him then just asking how he is, then asking if he's okay. Louis knows he comes to the pub twice to check on him then stops after Niall tells him that Louis need some space.

Louis feels awful about it. He doesn't like hurting anyone, let alone Harry. But he does need some space. He has to have time to think things through.

What Louis doesn't expect though, is to come in for his night shift at the pub, at eight this time, on a Sunday night, to find it packed. Like, jam-packed. He frowns, entering through the back door and finding Liam at the counter, serving at least ten people at once.

"Li?" Louis asks, immediately going to aid his friend, putting his coat aside.

"Louis," Liam says, smiling brightly at him, "good you're here, mate. I'll stay and help you out tonight."

"Uh, yeah--thanks. What--- why are we so packed? Did the pub opposite us shut down or summat?" Louis asks, pouring pints for two women in front of him. 

"Uh, no," Liam looks away from him, busying himself with a drink, "we, um, we kind of hired someone to sing tonight."

"What?" Louis asks, a little annoyed that they didnt consult him first.

"Yeah, um, it was very last minute and you've been a little... to yourself the past week so, Niall and I made a decision for tonight."

Louis huffs, still annoyed. He knows Liam's right about him being distant but they still should have told him.

"You still should told me," he voices, "I do run the pub too--- I own it, technically."

"I know," Liam mutters, handing two people their rum and cokes then looks at Louis, "but it's just for tonight and you can decide from there if you want to, maybe have them play again some time."

"Fine," Louis sighs.

He's been cooped up in his room for the past week or so, so he understands to an extent.

"Who is playing anyway? They've attracted such a big crowd," Louis says, scanning the room.

"Just, a guy," Liam shrugs.

"Great," Louis rolls his eyes then turns around to get the vodka from the shelf.

The lights dim a little around them which means the 'guy' is going to start playing. Louis is more than curious about who this 'guy' is, that's drawn in a big crowd.

But then, his heart falls to his arse when he hears a voice on the mic that's all too familiar.

"Hello, everyone. My name is Harry Styles and I have the honour of playing you one of my songs tonight."

There's cheers everywhere and it suddenly makes sense as to why the pub is so full.

"It's a brand new one. I haven't even released it yet but it's definitely one of my favourites," he continues, "and it's for someone special--- someone who means a lot to me. I can only hope this song says the words I couldn't."

Louis is still frozen in his spot, bottle of vodka in his hand. The pub goes quiet, the only thing filling it is Harry's soothing voice, rasping out words that pierce through Louis' heart.

He only turns around when Harry gets to the chorus of the song. He looks at him, guitar in his hand, eyes shut and voice filled with raw emotion.

The lump in Louis' throat grows bigger and soon he feels himself tearing up. It's such a beautiful song. The lyrics are honest and vulnerable.

Harry opens his eyes and they meet Louis' instantly, just like they always have. He looks right at Louis as he slows down, in what Louis thinks is the last part of the song, his voice cracking.

When the song ends, the pub erupts in cheers and applause and Louis can't stand there any longer. He slams the bottle of vodka down onto the counter and whips around quickly to head out.

He can hear Liam trying to call for him but he just can't be there anymore.

Once he's out into the cold night, he leans against the wall, trying to catch his breath before he starts bawling. He's only there for over a minute before someone joins him.

Not just someone, Harry himself. Louis doesn't even have to look to know. He can practically feel Harry's presence by now. It's warm and inviting and it smells like cinnamon too.

"Louis," he starts hestiantly, his steps moving closer, boots crunching on the gravel.

Louis swallows before looking at him. Harry looks scared, almost and hesitant.

"Harry," he greets back, trying to keep his voice from breaking.

"Did you... did you like the song?" He asks, rubbing his right hand over his left arm.

Louis lets out a humourless laugh, shaking his head. "Is this your way of grand gesture?"

"Yes, maybe?" Harry shrugs, letting out a breath, "I... I heard you the other day and I couldn't stop thinking about it and I knew I had to say something because--- because I didn't know you felt that way, Lou."

"How could you not?" Louis asks, his voice wavering slightly, "I never stopped loving you, Harry."

A tears falls down Harry's cheek. His bottom lip quivers. "I don't think I have either," he says quietly, "I--- I'm sorry I didn't tell you but---but why didn't you either, Louis? I was losing my mind over it."

Louis laughs, wiping a hand over his face. "Because I was fucking scared, Harry. In case you've forgotten, you left me. You left us. I don't want to get my heart broken again," he says, sniffing.

Harry's face twists then he cries. He fucking cries. "I'm sorry, Louis. I'm so sorry. Hurting you was the worst thing I've ever done and I can never forgive myself for that but I _love_ you, Louis, I really do."

Louis sighs, dropping his head back onto the wall and shutting his eyes. He feels Harrys hands cup his face and then suddenly Harry is front of him, his thumb wiping the underneath of Louis' eyes.

"I'm sorry," Harry repeats, "I'm sorry, Louis."

Louis lets out another breath, the air turning into a smoke in front of him from the cold.

"I liked the song," he says quietly, "did you mean it?"

Harry nods earnestly. "Every single word, yes. I'm falling again--- fell again, I suppose."

Louis sighs in defeat. He's been fighting this--- his feelings--- for far too long and now here he is, telling Louis something Louis thought he'd hear only in his dreams.

"Say it again," Louis says softly, Harry's hands still cupping his face.

"I love you," Harry says in one breath, "I really, really do. These past few months with you have been so incredible. I missed you so much."

Louis feels like a weight has been lifted off of his shoulders. He swallows. "You write too many songs about me, huh?"

Harry drops his hands from Louis' face, cheeks turning red.

"Louis, every song I've ever written had you somewhere between the lines in some way or another," he says, eyes shimmering with emotion.

Louis' heart constricts in his chest. "If it counts for anything, I write too many about you too."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, way too many," he smiles, small and tentative.

Harry bites back a smile of his own. "I'm hopelessly and desperately in love with you too, Louis Tomlinson."

Louis laughs, the sound airy and happy. "I love you," he exhales shakily, "god, it feels good to say out loud."

Harry grins, his dimples deep. "Can I kiss you now, please?"

Louis nods, meeting in the middle and kissing him with everything he has in him. This boy in front of him, in his arms, the one he's loved since he was fucking seventeen, he's everything Louis will ever want, ever need.

Harry pulls away, thumbing his cheekbone. "What--- what does this mean? Do you want to... be with me?"

"I've always wanted that, Harry. The ball is on your court right now," he says.

"I want to be with you. _Really_ be with you. I want to wake up next to you, have lazy morning sex, your half-cooked eggs, kiss you whenever I want to, see you while I sing the songs I wrote about you at my concerts, say I love you whenever I feel it, which would be like, all the time."

Louis' cheeks get hot. "I want that too, Harry."

"It's not going to be easy though," he says, his smile disappearing, "my life... while I can have my privacy, it's not normal, Louis. There'll be fans, paparazzi, media, shitty articles---"

Louis kisses him again, shutting him up. "I know there will be. But we've kept us on the DL for this long, haven't we?"

"I don't want to anymore," he mumbles, "I wanna show you off but also, I want to keep our lives private enough to still just be _us_. Does that make sense?"

"It does. I like being just us too."

Harry nods. "I think part of me was scared about that too... that you won't want to be with me because of the life I live now. As much as I love it, it gets brutal sometimes and I don't want to put you in the middle of it all."

"Well, it is my decision," he says softly, gently, "and I love you... I just want to be with you. We'll sort out everything on the way, yeah?"

Harry smiles. "Yeah, okay," he kisses Louis again. "You have to thank your friends for letting me play here tonight. I don't think I would have the courage to do it if it weren't for them pushing me to do something about it."

"They're meddlers like that," Louis huffs out a laugh, "suppose we have to thank you somehow though--- pub is doing well tonight."

"Hmm, yeah, about that," he starts, "I was thinking about playing here for the next few weeks--- month or so--- that I'm here."

Louis regards him carefully. "Harry, why would you want to play here? You're a world famous popstar."

"Yeah who started in this very pub on that dingy old stage with my wonderful supportive boyfriend cheering me on."

Louis grins, hands resting on Harrys waist. "So, wanna go back to your roots or summat?"

"Maybe," Harry smiles, "would love to have my supportive wonderful boyfriend cheering me on again too."

"Boyfriend?" He raises a brow at him, "who said anything about a boyfriend. Last time I checked, we haven't even been on a date yet."

"You're right," Harry frowns, "well then I guess we should start with a date, huh?"

"Yeah, a date sounds good."

"May have to be at one of our places though because I have a feeling a lot of people are going to find me after this," he says with an apologetic look on his face.

"That sounds perfect, actually. Just us two," Louis smiles softly, "I don't mind that all."

"Okay, good. How does tomorrow night sound? I know you don't have a shift."

"You do?"

"Liam," Harry answers as an explanation.

"Right," he sighs, "well tomorrow night it is then. Your place?"

"My place," Harry confirms.

Louis smiles again and kisses him, because he can now even if it's going to be a little difficult between them. They have a lot to talk about, a lot to figure out. But right here is where Louis knows he wants to be, where he belongs.

Harry pulls away, his smile soft and lovely and sweet. He holds Louis' hand, threading their fingers together. His cheeks are even pinker now, delicately spread over his face.

 _Petal_ , Louis thinks.

"Petal," he finally says out loud, kissing his cheek, delighting in the way he smiles afterwards. 

☆☆☆

_What if I'm down?_  
_What if I'm out?_  
_What if I'm someone you won't talk about?_  
_I'm fallin' again_  
_I'm fallin' again_  
_I'm fallin'_

_-_ **_Harry Styles - Falling_ **

☆☆☆


End file.
